The Blood of Erin
by FFcrazy15
Summary: In ancient times, the seer Ohm prophesied that one day, the lines of two twin princes would fight in battle, to save or doom all mankind. The only problem? The man who's destined to save the world has gone missing, and has no idea who he is. Who better to put on the job than the teenage mastermind himself? Post-TLG.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this. Information on the Beaumont Hospital from en. / wiki/Beaumont_Hospital,_Dublin (remove spaces).

_**Dublin, Ireland, Approximately 20 years ago**_

_She hurried through the streets of Dublin, knowing she didn't have much time. They were after her, and they would stop at nothing to get it. _

_ She had one chance, and one chance only. She needed a distraction. One final distraction._

_ She stopped for a moment, to catch her breath, and looked around. The tallest building nearby caught her eye._

_ A hospital. Perfect._

_ She sprinted off again, in the direction of the Beaumont Hospital._

_ They were getting closer now. She could almost hear them. Not quite, but it wouldn't be long now, wouldn't be long before-_

_ She dashed through the hospital doors before anyone could stop her, knocking over patients and doctors alike. She spotted an elevator and rushed inside, hitting the CLOSE DOOR and the ROOF buttons almost simultaneously._

_ The doors shut, and for a moment, there was peace and quiet all around her._

_ What seemed an eternity later, the doors opened, and she found herself in a small stairwell. She hurried up the steps to the top._

_ The city winds whipped her hair about her face, long and white, as she exited onto the cement rooftop. She took a deep breath of air, and then quickly ran over to the edge of the roof._

_ She made it just in time. Behind her, as she turned, four figures materialized in the air._

_ "Give it to us," one of the figures said, his face masked with a stolen LEP helmet, badly scratched and dented._

_ "Give it to us immediately," the second amended._

_ She took a step back, saw the edge of the building and the sheer drop down to the grass. If she fell, she'd break her neck. Or skull. Or some other vital part of her body. _

_ "If you don't," said the third, "We will shoot. Don't think we have any qualms about that, Mrs. Frond."_

_ "None at all, Mrs. Frond," the fourth agreed._

_ "Now," said the first, taking a step forward and extending one hand, the other still holding the gun. "Give us the weapon, and things don't have to get messy."_

_ And at this, Mrs. Frond did the strangest thing: she laughed._

_ "Things are already messy," she called to the four, the wind distorting her words, but not enough for them to lose their meaning. "And even if they weren't, I would never give you what you want."_

_ The fourth glanced at the first, who nodded. He fired._

_ The blast knocked her backwards. For a single instant, it was like flying. Oh, how she had missed flying._

_ Then, she hit the ground, and Sarah Frond was no more._

_ The DNA tests on the body came up with no matches. She was declared a Jane Doe, an unknown, unidentified number in the census, who had committed suicide for no known reason. She was a nobody._

_ The pursuers were enraged, for they could not find what they wanted on her body, seconds after her fall. Mrs. Sarah Frond had left her most valuable possession in the hands of the Lower Elements Police, and when they raided even that a month later, their came up with nothing before they were forcibly escorted from the property to jail._

_ They assumed the weapon had been passed on to some obscure person, and the search went underground, virtually non-existent. But the weapon was no longer among the fairy folk. It was not even really missing._

_ The weapon was hidden in plain sight._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this. No copyright infringement intended.

**20 years previous**

"I'm sorry, did you just say _you lost him?"_

Silence filled the small room. The four fairies shook. One was trembling so hard, his teeth clacked together.

The elf's eyes were narrowed dangerously, fury burning in them. "Don't you realize what this means?" he seethed. "We may _never_ find him now! That was our last chance, our _only_ chance!"

"It wasn't our fault, sir!" the bravest of the four said, terror in every syllable. "She didn't have him when we-"

He never finished his sentence. The elf turned to him and, with a bright flash of light, the fairy was reduced to a pile of ash.

His eyes flicked back towards the others. "Any other complaints?"

They didn't even dare shake their heads.

The elf turned to a guard. "Get them out of my sight," he snapped.

As the three were hauled away, he sat down to think. To plot. He was good at plotting.

The icy blue eyes closed, thinking. A moment later, he opened them again, and pulled a book from the nearby shelf.

It was a very old book, but then again, most books are. This one had been preserved by magic; in human hands, it would be no more than dust by now. The elf opened it and began to search the well-worn pages for something, anything to help him…

_These are the writings of the Ohm, phlegm pot cleaner to the King._

_ It has now been one hundred years we have lived in these miserable caves. I ache for the sight of the moon each night, the whisper of the wind in the oak leaves… we crave the world above, full of light and warmth in day, and quiet and peace by night. I have received no visions as to how long our stay will be._

_ Her Majesty, Lady Iridûin has born two healthy male children. And yet, the strangeness of it all is astounding, for one child has been born in the form of man: though he is indeed of elfish blood, he holds nearly no magic at all. The second holds magic of such potency that I can only believe he took it from his brother. The brothers are opposite in everything: the eldest has hair white as snow, the second black as midnight. Both have eyes like palest ice. She has named the first Erin, for our beloved country above, and the other Haven, for our safety below._

_ The things I know for these two… I wish I did not. I will not break the heart of my King with what I have seen, but my own heart breaks even as I hold my secrets. I have born prophecies before… prophecies of boys with raven hair, of two-faced elves and great battles. But never have I seen what I see now…_

_**Where war once raged on ancient ground**_

_** Another war its field there found.**_

_** One for peace, the other for danger,**_

_** War waged between cousin strangers.**_

_** Always two, with destinies tied.**_

_** One hardly a man, one a monster inside.**_

_** Of Erin's line, and Erin's land,**_

_** The first seeks peace with sword in hand.**_

_** Of Haven's blood, and Haven's hold,**_

_** The second seeks revenge untold.**_

_** Both men of mud and fairies of flight,**_

_** All are made mortal in war's sight.**_

_** Though fates are tangled, they're made, not met,**_

_** Fortunes are read, not in stone set.**_

_** Born from two brothers, but not nearly the same,**_

_** Not in species, nor in name.**_

_** Two lines will flow, two bloods be made,**_

_** And in blood the final debt be paid.**_

_ These two children of the King will begin it all… I see it now._

_ Yet always, there is a chance, a chance for redemption. I can only hope that this chance will be taken._

_ But if it is not, then, I pray, Erinsblood will pay the debt he does not owe, for the sake of us fairies… and, though this may be blasphemy, for the sake of mankind, as well._

The elf finished his reading, still furious. This… this _Erinsblood_ had been taken, slipped right out of his fingers! How was he to catch him now?

Then, slowly, he paused. He reread the prophecy. _Born from two brothers, but not nearly the same, not in species, nor in name._

As he realized what was about to happen, a cold smile crossed his face. "You!" he said, pointing to one of the guards, who flinched. "Bring me a team of fairies. Immediately!"

The guard hurried away to do his bidding, and the elf sat back against his chair. He would send his people to search Police Plaza for the tiny albino child, where the Erinsblood had likely been taken. And then, if it was too late, he would look among the Mud People, where no doubt they would hide him. For as long as it took, he would search for this _Erinsblood._ And once he found him, the mud people would finally get their just deserts.

He clenched his fist and resisted the urge to pound it on the desktop. The mud people would pay for everything they'd done to fairykind. They would pay for shoving his ancestors underground, for keeping him and his brothers from the surface.

And if one of those mudworms dared try to protect the Erinsblood… well may the gods show them mercy, because he would show none.

**Ireland, Present-day**

_Thunk!_

Artemis glanced up from his work, looking at the harlequin romance that had just landed on his desk. "You need to tell me something, Butler?"

"Nothing but a congratulations," the bodyguard grunted. "Two months back from the dead and you already crank out another bestseller."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Did you read it?"

Butler tactfully ignored the question and gestured to the copy of _Forbidden Passion_. "I'm glad you took a break, Artemis; this re-designing has kept you up much too late and waken you up much too early."

"The Ice Cube is coming along fine, so I decided I could afford some time off. Harlequins are easy to write; it took me all of two days. I'm glad to know it wasn't a waste of time."

There was a pause, and then Artemis closed his laptop with a sigh. "You didn't come in here to talk about books, Butler."

"No, sir."

Artemis gestured with his hand as a sign to get on with it.

For a split second, he saw hesitation flick through his bodyguard's eyes, and then it was gone as Butler cleared his throat. "As you know, Juliet's on her tour at the moment in the Bahamas…"

"I do."

"The Bahamas is nice this time of year," Butler continued, almost conversationally, which made Artemis want to laugh, since his bodyguard didn't do idle chitchat. "And seeing as no evil pixie has a thirst for your blood at the current time…"

Artemis really did laugh then. "Of course you can take a vacation, Butler; Heaven knows you deserve one. Besides, the weather will do you good. I'm sure you've had enough of icy oceans or underground cities to last you a lifetime."

The man's face broke into that which for Butler counted as a smile. "Thank you, sir. If you're certain you'll be alright…"

"I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet, Butler. No more crazy adventures for me, at least not for a while. I've had quite enough of that." He chuckled to himself, musing. "As a matter of fact, I've been contemplating publishing the stories under a pseudonym. They'd make wonderful fantasy reading."

"You'd give Foaly a conniption," Butler grunted, though he was clearly happy. "Thank you again, sir.

"My honor and pleasure, old friend. And I'm ordering you to have a well-deserved good time while you're down there. If the bill isn't high enough, I'll send you back."

"Of course, sir. I'd best go pack, then." Butler walked calmly out of the room, but Artemis thought he heard whistling. He didn't even think Butler _could _whistle.

Artemis reopened his laptop and studied the designs of the Ice Cube. It was all going according to plan. He could take a break for the rest of the day; everything was proceeding ahead of schedule.

Life was perfect. There were no evil pixies out for his head, no probes crashing into the deep, no evil spirits possessing every living thing in sight, no Complexes, no disasters, nothing in particular he had to worry about, and it was a lovely day outside.

Unfortunately for Artemis Fowl,- who was descending the stairs, whistling an old Irish tune of his own, in search of his twin brothers and a little sunlight despite his pale skin- he had never been fate's favorite. If he thought death was anything, well, who could blame destiny for chuckling? Death was peanuts compared to the future.

Because Artemis Fowl was about to become part of the most dangerous manhunt in history.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I make no money off of this. No copyright infringement intended.

_** holidayboredom: thanks for the tip! Very valuable information; oftentimes, the other doesn't realize things like that.**_

_**To All: Happy Saint Patrick's Day! God bless!**_

**Haven City, Present day**

**(or, Holly Short's Really Bad Day)**

Holly Short was having a really bad day.

Not bad in the usual (or for others, abnormal) sort of bad day where people were trying to kill her. No, this bad day was just an ordinarily bad day. And for her, that made it especially irritating.

It had all started that morning, when her Commander had decided her buttons needed pushing.

"Traffic duty?!" she demanded. "I save the godsd'arviting _world_ and you put me on TRAFFIC DUTY?!"

"It's a break!" Trouble snapped back. "You've been running around like a madwoman for what, the last six years now-"

"Three."

"It's six for me, and that's beside the point! The point is that you need to take a breather, and you know it as well as I do! Besides, I've heard you haven't done the ritual in _two months."_

Holly scowled. "I've been busy!"

"That's not an excuse, especially not for you. Now get your elf behind out there before I-"

"Before what. Take away my badge? Yeah, like _that_ would fly real well with the press."

Trouble matched her scowl with his. "You go," he said, voice threatening, "Or I take _all_ your raspberry yogurt out of the fridge and give it to Grub. _And _I make you file reports!"

And so here she was, sitting in a tiny, cramped vehicle, waiting for something to happen.

And nothing did. Nearly everyone seemed to be behaving today, and Holly wasn't a big enough jerk to pick on someone for minor infractions.

Sighing, she went through a list of people she could possibly be talking to right now. Foaly and Caballine were both at work… N˚1, too… and there was only so much of Mulch she could take…

_Let me see,_ she mused. _Who do I know who's either too rich or too lazy to have a job, and who doesn't annoy me too much?_

It wasn't a very long list.

She called up the obvious choice, and waited as, countless miles above her head, his ring started to buzz.

Finally, he picked up. "Holly? Something wrong?"

"Talk to me."

She saw him blink in the tiny screen. "Beg your pardon?"

"Talk to me. I'm bored out of my skull down here. Trouble put me on traffic and apparently everyone decided to follow the rules today."

Artemis chuckled. "I'm surprised you didn't throw a fit about that."

"I tried to," she said darkly. "But he threatened me with paperwork and a loss of raspberry yogurt."

"Ah. Well, why are you calling?"

"Because everyone else I know is working."

"Like you're supposed to be doing?"

She waved that aside. "How're things up on the surface?"

"Well it's a lovely day, if that's what you're asking."

"It's not."

"I guessed as –" He stopped suddenly, and the picture on her screen swirled until she saw an image of patio stone and grass. "Becket! No! You can absolutely _not_ hit your brother with a stick!" There was a pause and a muffled sort of yelling noise. "No, not even if you want to swordfight. You do not strike your brother with sharp and-or pointy objects." Another pause, more noise. "Good." She heard the creaking as the teenager sat down again and the image whirled back up to him. "Sorry about that. Mum and Dad don't get home until tonight- they're on business in London- and as I just sent Butler on a well-deserved vacation, I'm in charge of the twins."

"No problem," Holly said, grinning. "So, how exactly did you manage to convince the authorities you're not dead?"

"It was surprisingly simple. I simply explained that when I was younger, little innocent me got into some seedy business deals in a valiant attempt to save my father." He put on a very fake noble face.

"Not too far from what actually happened. Minus the innocence, of course."

"I said my death was faked to throw off some rather nasty old partners who were sending blackmail."

"And they bought it?"

"I can be surprisingly convincing." Artemis grinned in a self-satisfied way. "I even managed to put away some very bad men in the process."

"Artemis Fowl doing good for the world? I'm not sure whether to be surprised or not." Suddenly, a buzzer went off on her phone, and she minimized Artemis's screen. "Hold on a moment." A second later, she swore loudly.

"What happened?"

"There's been a raid Police Plaza. I've got to go. They might call you up to help, so be ready."

"Will do."

She hit _end call_ and put her phone in her pocket. "And to think I was actually angry over getting a break," she said, mentally scolding herself as she started for the plaza.

**Police Plaza**

"Trouble, what's going on?" Holly demanded, walking into the chaotic room. "I'm gone for an hour and there's a raid? How on earth did they walk into a room full of LEP without getting taken down?!"

"Does it look like I know?!" the Commander said, clearly distressed. That was a problem. Trouble didn't get distressed. "A group of fairies in black just walked in. They had some sort of device that let off this flash of light and knocked us all unconscious, everyone in the building. When we woke up, they were gone."

"Did they take anything?"

"Not that we know of. Foaly's still running file checks." He pounded his fist against the desk. "This shouldn't be possible! You can't just walk into a room full of trained officers, pull a firecracker and walk out! D'arvit, Foaly, get out here!"

At that moment, the centaur in question trotted out of his office. "Someone hacked my computers," he said, also looking very distressed. "Only Fowl's ever been able to do that before."

"You think he had something to do with this?" Trouble said, frowning.

"Can't have; he's up on the surface with his kid brothers," Holly said.

"How do you know?"

"Because I was talking to him when it happened."

Trouble's frown deepened. "On duty?!"

"Yeah, 'cause that's the real problem here," Foaly whinnied, nervously sarcastic.

Trouble decided to focus on the bigger issue. "What did they take?"

"As far as I can tell, they didn't _take_ anything, but they did _copy_ a few files."

"Which ones?"

"It was the weirdest thing; they copied the files on the old prophecy."

"There've been a lot of old prophecies, Foaly; you're going to have to narrow it down."

"The Erinsblood prophecy," he specified.

Holly couldn't help but laugh. "Out of all the top-secret files in the LEP, they took _that?_ You've got to be kidding. It's not even good rhyming."

"You'd be surprised; someone tried to take the exact same files about twenty years ago," Foaly said. "You were still in training then…"

"Right, I remember hearing about that," Holly recalled. "The newspaper said it was some sort of nutjob group obsessed with the prophecy."

"That's about right. Nobody knows who they are, though. It was one of the old Ohm prophecies."

"How many of those have actually come true?" Holly wondered.

"Out of the 243 prophecies he made…" Foaly thought for a moment. "Six. I think it's six."

"Well there you go. Nothing to worry about. I mean, except for the fact that they broke in, used advanced weaponry, and got out without so much as a scratch." She shrugged. "Sounds like your basic recon mission to me."

There was a moment's silence, before Trouble scowled. "Alright, fine! You can go." Holly's face broke into a grin, and he held up his hand. "_But,_ I'm not sending you alone. These people are smart; you're going to need help who's just as smart as they are."

"I know just the man."

**Fowl Manor**

Artemis wasn't surprised when the ring buzzed again. He let out a sigh and clicked _accept call._ "I suppose you need my help?"

Holly's face took on an expression of annoyance. "Just stay topside until I get there."

"I can't leave my brothers here until my parents get home."

Holly ground her teeth, trying to think. "Fine. But we're short on time, mudboy."

"Aren't we always?"

"I'll fill you in when I get up there. This shouldn't take long; it's nothing too serious. I just need a partner." The screen went fuzzy as she disconnected the call.

When she arrived about half an hour later, Artemis began his interrogation. "Do you know who the perpetrators were? What did they take? Did they leave any evidence, any calling cards?"

Holly held up a hand, stifling the flow of questions. "Easy, mudboy. This is just a simple recon, okay? Couple of wackjobs broke in, knocked everyone out, copied some files and left."

Artemis didn't miss the significance of this. "You mean they knocked out every LEP officer in police plaza, hacked Foaly's computers, and then waltzed out with no trouble at all."

Holly bit her lip. "Alright, so it's a bit of a complicated recon mission. That's why I need your help."

Artemis sighed. "Two months back from the dead and someone needs my help."

"Get used to it, mudboy. You're valuable to the LEP now. Let's go review what they took."

Artemis had already hacked the LEP files, so he opened his computer, clicking the search box. "Tell me what to search."

"Prophecy of Erinsblood," Holly answered, sitting down beside him.

He typed it in and opened the file that came up. A copy of the prophecy was written in gnomish on the top, and he ready through it, frowning slightly. "Interesting."

"What?"

"Erin's Isle is an old name for Ireland," Artemis explained. "It seems she- the queen, I mean- named the first son after Ireland." He scrolled some more. "Why would they take this?"

"They're sort of a strange lot," Holly said, reaching over to scroll through. "They raided the LEP about twenty years ago, but they didn't take anything that time. We didn't bother to go after them; we were too busy right then."

"You mean they, as I believe you were still in training at that time."

"Yes, I-" She frowned. "How did you know that?"

"How do I know anything I do? I looked it up." He glanced up to see her surprised expression. "Come now, Holly, don't look so violated. I did the same thing to Foaly's records, and Mulch's. I like to know whom I'm dealing with."

"Ignoring that," Holly muttered under her breath. "These people are smart, but they're also crazy, which means they forget things."

"Why do you assume they're crazy?"

"The prophecy's faulty, Artemis. The seer's accuracy level isn't exactly stellar. But these people are still obsessed with finding whoever he was talking about."

At this, his ears perked up. "You mean there _is_ an Erinsblood?"

"Sure. The family's continued down through the years; they have the same surname as Lili Frond." She checked herself as she read another line. "He, excuse me. He has the same surname as Lili Frond."

"Why 'he?'"

"There's only one surviving heir; the second to last died about the same time they raided the LEP."

"Could that be connected?"

"Probably. Looks like she was his mother." She drew back. "There's more, but we don't have time to read it."

"_You_ don't have time to read it; I do." He took the computer back and scrolled through the file. It was long, and for anyone else, unable to be read in only a few hours. But Artemis Fowl was not anyone else. "Could you take over watching the twins for a while? I need to look through this."

"Fill me in when you're done."

"Will do."

As the elf wandered off towards the two blonde children (both of whom were overjoyed to see her), Artemis began to read.

He soon discovered that King Frond had fathered three children: two sons, Erin and Haven, and one daughter, Lili. The prophecy had only concerned the first two; when Artemis came across it, he took a picture of it and the old text surrounding it with his phone. Erin, the eldest, lacked nearly all of his magic, whereas Haven, the younger of the twins, had power of unusual strength, likely taken from his brother in the womb. Once grown, the brothers had developed two highly different personalities. Prince Erin, while unafraid to fight, favored peace. Prince Haven, on the other hand, used his cleverness to take what he wanted, and had no qualms irritating those he thought deserved it.

Artemis couldn't help but smirk as he read about the later. He thought he would have liked him.

The brothers lived for many years in harmony. It was Haven who discovered that Erin could acquire magic only during the full moon, and Erin, in gratitude, convinced his father to name the growing underground city after his brother. Erin often journeyed aboveground with several of his more magically talented companions, disguised as a human, to aid the poor village people when they suffered from plights of disease or misfortune. As the centuries passed, the descendants of the once barbaric people who had driven fairy-kind underground began to think of the old stories as nothing more than fairytales. This suited Erin just fine, as it allowed him to travel even more aboveground without being suspected. He would pass through their villages at night and enchant their crops to grow, bless their sickly children with sudden health, and prevent misfortune before it began.

Despite this, the feelings against the humans ran high amongst the People, and some began to form into a hateful, often violent group, named the Militants. They, too, would travel to the surface, but with very different intents. Maladies began to affect the humans in droves, and any peaceful fairies that did not wish ill to the humans were attacked by mobs. Crime ran rampant through the city. Erin, by now king of the People, formed his own task force in response, the members of which took oaths to protect both fairy and mankind from danger. He named them the Lower Elements Police.

However, things turned sour when he realized that the leader of the Militants was his own brother, Haven. He confronted his brother, who accused him of being friendly to the mud people because he, like them, had little magic, going as far as to call the elder a mud man himself. Erin became furious. In a violent confrontation, Haven left the city, swearing that he and his children would not rest until the last of Erin's line was dead.

Erin eventually found a queen, and they bore a son, who bore a son of his own, and so on, and so forth. The last on the list was the only female, a woman named Sarah Frond, who reportedly had an unknown child before being found topside, on the lawn of a hospital. It was reported that she jumped, but the LEP knew she was fired at and knocked off the roof- likely by the remaining Militants.

Sarah had appeared to know she was being followed, and she left her child, an infant boy, in the hands of the LEP. There, the file ended with a link to another file.

Artemis clicked it. A message came up, reading, _clearance level needed._

He frowned upon reading this, and then entered in his best hack. The same message appeared.

Artemis silently cursed and opened up his fairy communicator ring. It rang once, twice. Then Foaly picked up. "Hello?"

"Foaly, unlock the website."

"What website?"

"Very funny. Now open it up; the clearance level isn't letting me through."

"Artemis, I didn't lock you out of our files. I've got better stuff to do than amuse your ego." He paused. "Wait. You mean you're actually stuck? You can't hack through?"

"Would I be calling you if I could?"

"Admittedly not," the centaur said. "It must be a glitch; I'll log in right now. Try reloading the page."

"Alright." Artemis clicked his curser into the URL box and reached for the enter key.

As his finger hit the plastic, Foaly suddenly said, "Hold it, don't-!"

Too late. Artemis had already pressed the button. He saw a list of codes run across his screen, and then suddenly his whole computer screen went black.

The teenager swore loudly. "Foaly, what in the blazes just happened?!"

"You crashed your computer," Foaly said, looking equally as frustrated. "When I turned mine on about forty-five minutes ago, it must've let out some sort of bug…" He typed a few codes in and shook his head. "Yeah, it's putting up blocks on everything. You must've caught that page just in time; looks like it just finished."

"Do you keep any records on hand?"

"Yes, we write them on rose petals. What do you think, mud boy?! No, we don't keep written records!" He let out on a stream of gnomish curses, many of which Artemis had never heard before. "D'arvit, it's going to take hours, maybe days to get this system back up!"

"Perhaps I could-"

"No, Holly needs you aboveground."

"But I don't have enough information!" Artemis said, frustrated. "Clearly we need to find this person they're looking for before we can find this man, but-"

"I'm sorry, Artemis, but there's nothing I can do. I'm too busy down here to help right now."

Artemis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Were there any eyewitnesses?"

"A few. Myself, Julius, Raine..."

"What do you remember?"

"Artemis, I'm busy!"

"You're going to get a lot busier if these people aren't caught."

Foaly sighed. "Right, sorry. It's been a long day. Let me think…" He closed his eyes. "His name was Erin, after the original, I believe. His mother left him in our hands- she must've known she was being chased- and when she died, we knew they'd come after him, too. So we hid him."

"Where?"

"On the surface, of course. I engineered a virus strain that attacked the magic center of the mind. It worked fine, especially considering he was magically handicapped, anyway. Add that, a little cosmetic surgery and a synthetic human pituitary gland, and voilà: human baby."

"Where is he?" Artemis said, mind racing. If they could get to the child first-

"We don't know; we stopped keeping records of him after that." Foaly thought for a moment. "Theoretically, he could be anywhere in the world, but he's most likely somewhere in France. The agency we left him with was in Paris."

"How old?"

The centaur shrugged. "Twenty, give or take a few months. He's also an albino, though I'm not sure how helpful that'll be."

"French albino male of twenty years old," Artemis repeated. "Anything else?"

"Sorry, kid; that's all I know off the top of my head." Someone out of the screen shouted something, and Foaly said, "I've got to go. Good luck." The screen clicked out to black.

Artemis turned off his laptop, deciding he'd have to deal with it later, and then turned. Holly (who had of course been listening) raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently we've just entered ourselves in a race," he said calmly. "There's no time to waste. It seems that the twins will need a nanny for the next few hours."

She grinned that daredevil grin she'd acquired of the last few years. "Put on a jacket, Arty. We're going to France."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl. I also do not own Disneyland Paris or any of the rides, attractions, or landmarks of such used here in this story. I make no money off of this. No copyright infringement intended.

**AF**

Artemis truly did like the sensation of flight. A skilled aircraft aviator himself, he had long since gotten over any fear of heights, and any mistrust of flying with the help of Holly's moonbelt that he may have had in his early world-saving days had disappeared via necessity.

Holly glanced down at her companion to see his eyes closed and a slight smile gracing his usually unemotional features. It was a nice change, to see him so at peace.

As they arrived in the air over Paris, she slowed to a halt, hovering in midair. "Where to?" she called down below, voice vibrating.

"Somewhere we can plan without being suspected," Artemis answered.

"Paris Disneyland?"

"Paris Disneyland."

"Roger," she said, and dove.

Artemis bit back a yelp, not daring to open his mouth for fear of screaming. As they landed in the fake forest behind one of the attractions and Holly switched off the shield, Artemis stumbled weakly over to a tree, bracing himself against the trunk. "You will be the death of me, Holly Short," he groaned, face pale.

"Don't get sick; we have work to do," she said, smirking.

"Of course." He swallowed forcefully and straightened up. "Let's get to somewhere we can talk."

The crept out of the fake forest and found themselves at the base of the _Swiss Family Treehouse_. All around them, people dressed as various characters mingled with tourists. Holly, for once, felt absolutely no need to shield herself, or even to hide her ears. If anyone asked, she could say she was an actress.

After a few minutes of walking, they came across a rainforest-themed café and silently slipped inside.

So as not to seem suspicious, each decided to order a coffee. As they neared the front of the line, the acne-spotted teenager behind the counter said (with a voice that clearly indicated he thought he was funny), "What happened, little girl; did you wander out of the Snow White exhibit?"

Before Holly could respond, Artemis said in loud, angry French, "Excuse me?! My girlfriend has achondroplasia!"

The pimpled teenager's eyes went wide. "Uh-"

"It's a very serious medical condition and she doesn't appreciate being made fun of any more than you would!"

"I-"

"I don't see how it's any of your business if she works here! Clearly she has a better job than _you!"_  
"Okay, okay! Sorry, dude, lady- um- coffees on the house?"

The free coffee turned out to be pretty good (to Holly, who hadn't tasted real coffee in a long time), and they sat down at a small table in the back corner.

"Achondroplasia?" she asked, as she hopped up onto the seat.

"Genetic dwarfism. Now nobody here will question your height or features." He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. "Hot."

"You don't say." He gave her a look. "So what's our plan here?"

"Find the poor fellow they're after before they do and arrest them once they appear on the scene."

"Not as sophisticated as usual."

Artemis shrugged. "This isn't exactly a pressing situation, Holly; yes, these people are smart, but they're also deluded and what's more is they only want one person to start out with. We don't have to save the world right away this time."

"How considerate of them."

"Since they crashed the LEP computers for a while, we're going to have to figure out what we can with what we have. Thankfully, I saved a screenshot of the prophecy." He pulled his phone out of his suit pocket and unlocked it, opening up the image. "Now theoretically, this _could_ refer to the person they're looking for, but it most likely _doesn't._"

"So how can we learn anything from it?"

"I had the good common sense to download a PDF of the LEP arrest records last year, as well as a census."

"Exactly how many top-secret files do you have?" she wondered.

He shrugged and evaded the question. "I'm going to search that list to see what exactly I can come up with."

Artemis used his phone to connect back to his other, working computer in Ireland. After a few minute's wait, he managed to cross-search the lists with a series of words, including _Frond, Erin, Haven, _and _Prophecy._

A number of names came up. The first one, which had the most significant hits, was nothing more than a little blip about halfway down the census list. Artemis opened the file up. There wasn't much on it; a bad picture and a few lines of description. The picture showed a somewhat taller elf than usual, with long black hair and pale blue eyes. Artemis scanned the information briefly. "This looks promising. This man here lives underground, some ways away from Haven. Let me see, his name is…" Artemis's eyes widened. "Haven Frond."

"Well, that isn't obvious," Holly said, a little surprised at how easy it had been.

"There isn't much here, however; this picture appears to have been taken several decades ago; it seems to be some sort of vehicle license. He's an elf, a couple of centuries old… unknown address… no known groups or affiliations… huh." Artemis frowned. "This man hardly exists. He's either a nobody, or very good at pretending to be a nobody."

"Does it say anything about his little friends?" Holly leaned forward, reaching over his shoulder.

"As I said, no known groups or affiliations. It seems the only reason he showed up was because his name matched the searches." He was frowning deeply.

"What is it?" Holly questioned.

"I'm wondering why, if these people are so technologically advanced, they couldn't wipe him from one single census record?"

"Unless he isn't the right man?" Holly suggested.

"Perhaps…" but in reality, Artemis didn't think so at all. He could feel his ears growing hot, which they had a habit of doing when he was on to something.

"Ah, _mis viejos amigos!"_

Artemis glanced up as Holly rolled her eyes. "Mulch."

The dwarf (who was dressed rather disturbingly like he was out of the set of _Snow White)_ grinned and ambled over to them. _"Bueno, ¿no es esto una sorpresa?"_

"That's Spanish, Mulch," Artemis informed him bluntly. "Why are you here?"

"I'm on coffee break."

"Sure you are," Holly said. "Now how's about you tell me the real reason?"

Mulch looked around, and then he leaned in. "Foaly sent me up here. Said you might need this." He pulled a tiny flash drive. "Bit stone-age, but it's the best he can do at the moment." He glanced over at the phone. "Hey, I know that guy."

"You do?" Holly said, surprised.

"Sure. Did a couple of shady deals with him back in the day. Brilliant man, kind of egotistical, though. Hmm, now who does that remind me of?"

Artemis let the insult roll off his shoulders. Now wasn't the time. "What did you sell him? Did he ever mention something about a prophecy?"

Mulch thought for a moment. "Not that I can recall. He didn't speak much. But come to think of it, one of his buddies came in during the sale and said something about a search."

"A search? What search?"

"I don't really remember."

Artemis gritted his teeth. "Try harder."

"A'right, a'right! Sheesh." Mulch scrunched his features up, which made the Snow White dwarf look only more ridiculous. "Let me see… he mentioned something about Europe… they'd narrowed down the results… Then the guy shushed him. Guess he didn't want me hearing anything I didn't need to know."

"What did you sell him?" Holly asked.

"It was the weirdest thing; I got a commission from one of his guys a few weeks earlier for some mud men tech info. Stuff he couldn't get unless he was in the LEP, or knew a guy like me."

"What sort of information?" Artemis questioned. His ears were practically on fire; he could tell they were close.

Mulch scratched his beard. "Let me think…" There was a pause, and then he snapped his fingers. "It was a series of electronic files. Had something to do with mud men adoption agencies."

Artemis quickly took the thumbdrive out of Mulch's grubby hand and plugged into the little USB port on his phone. He opened up the only file present and quickly scrolled down to the bottom. There was a date, a time, and one agency listed, the _Agence de Coeurs Affectueux._ The date read, _Dec 12__th__, 1993._

"This is what he wanted," Artemis said. "The LEP had the information all along, apparently when they were raided the first time, the fairies involved were caught before they could get the information to him."

"And now they have it," Holly surmised.

"Exactly."

"So what? We go there too?" Mulch wondered.

Artemis ran a quick Internet search. "We can't. The agency doesn't exist anymore; it closed in 1997."

"Then what?"

"We need to talk to one or more of the men taken in," Artemis explained. "We need to confirm our suspicions regarding Haven Frond and learn what his intentions are for the man he's hunting. After that, we can track both him and his target down, but we need more information first."

Holly stood up. "Then we'd better get going."

**Haven City**

After one long and rather uncomfortable shuttle ride with a number of goblin tourists, the synthetically breezy air of Haven was very welcome. The little troop of three made their way along the busy streets.

Every screen was lit with news reports of the recent raid of Police Plaza. Holly cursed under her breath and picked up the pace on her way to the Plaza.

The moment they got in the door, Commander Kelp was in front of them. "Good, you're here," he said, leading them swiftly back towards the office, barking orders all the while.

As he closed the doors, he said, "Foaly's got parts of the computers back on, but almost all our weapons and wings are down."

"Mine aren't," Holly said, frowning.

"That's because you were out of range," Trouble answered. "Look, we need these guys caught pronto. Apparently there's some sort of access code on all the tech here, and we can't get into any of it."

"How did they manage to do all of that in a few short minutes?" Artemis wondered.

"You tell me, mud whelp."

"How exactly are we supposed to catch them so quickly with only a few people?" Holly said.

"Look, Holls, I'd love to help, but as soon as word got out our systems were down, crime exploded all over the city. I've got every officer working 'round the clock here; I can't spare anyone. If there were anything I could do, I would."

"Actually, there is something," Artemis said, stepping forward. "We need to interrogate one of the people who were caught in the 1995 raid. It's highly likely that they're connected to this."

Trouble nodded and opened up his computer. "Foaly's got the prisoner records up… let me see…" He searched through the list and nodded. "Here we go. Failed 1995 raid convicts… they were kept in Atlantis, up until the probe incident. This guy here-" he pointed to the first name on the list "Seemed to be the brains of the operation. Cell block C, number 342. Name's Nardún Torls. We'll get him in an interrogation room for you."

"Thank you."

Trouble grunted, and then strode over to the door. "I've got a report on East 7th! One of you better put down your coffee and get your ass out there or I'll burn your badges like they're sim cigars!"

As the trio began to leave, Kelp stopped Artemis by the shoulder. "Don't get cocky, Fowl," he said lowly. "These people are smart, and you're the best chance we got, so don't get yourself blown up."

"I have no intention of dying, Commander."

"Intention only goes so far, mudman. Do whatever you need to do."

…

_Whatever you need to do._ The words echoed in Artemis's head as he walked down the rows of cells, footsteps echoing in the silence. He tried to ignore the sickened feeling in his stomach, but it wasn't easy. Growing a conscience was beginning to seem more and more like a poor idea.

They stopped in front of a metal door. Artemis glanced back behind him. "Don't say a word," he said in a low voice, and then slid the clearance card through.

Apparently the door mechanisms hadn't been affected, because it opened easily. Artemis walked inside, closing the door behind him all but a crack, so that Holly and Mulch could hear.

There were two chairs in the room, facing each other. A large, brawny elf was sitting in one of the chairs- the one, of course, that had metal cuffs, and was nailed to the floor. Artemis didn't bother to sit in the other. "Hello, Nardún."

The elf glared at him, but said nothing.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Unruly today, are we?" There was an iciness in his tone that made Holly (who of course was listening) tense on reflex. His voice was nearly identical to that of the arrogant, ruthless genius he had been as a child.

Artemis crossed his arms behind his back, posture aloft, controlling. "I have a few questions for you, Mr. Nardún."

"And what makes you think I'm going to answer them?" the elf replied, sneering.

"Oh, I have reason to believe you'll be more than happy to comply," Artemis said calmly. The fairy scoffed and rolled his eyes. Artemis appeared entirely unaffected. Instead of backing away, he leaned forward. "Allow me to ask you one question to begin, Mr. Nardún: do you know who I am?"

"Some LEP trash."

Artemis turned his head, revealing a lack of pointed ear. "Guess again."

As the elf worked it out, his eyes began to widen. "You're- you're that Fowl kid, aren't you?"

Artemis smiled coldly in response.

Nardún was clearly disturbed. He'd heard about the criminal genius from the other inmates. He knew the lengths Artemis would go to get what he wanted. But the elf decided he wouldn't be the one to get scared by some kid. "You can't intimidate me," he said hotly. "I'm not afraid of you, mud-scum."

It was the wrong decision. "Yet," Artemis said calmly, and straightened up. "Let's get down to business, shall we? You've clearly heard about me, which means you've heard about Butler."

And that was when Nardún went pale. "Wh-"

"And of course, Butler's heard about you, seeing as he's just outside the door."

"Y-youre bluffing!"

"Why would I bluff?" Artemis was entirely unperturbed. "Actually, Mr. Nardún, I'm almost certain _you're_ bluffing, with this pathetic display of machismo. Now," he said, beginning to pace, "In case you're unaware, Butler has been highly trained in several different martial arts, meaning that if he wanted to, he could kill you in five different ways before you had the chance to scream. Since killing you would obviously defeat my purpose, he'd probably only make you wish you were dead."

Nardún was now the color of bad oatmeal.

"Luckily for you, this is a new suit and I don't want it to get stained, so I'll offer you a deal before we have to do any… dirty work."

"A deal?" Nardún said, voice a few octaves too high. "What deal?"

"I need information, you don't like prison. If you tell me what I want to know, I'll get your sentence- which is life, by the way- reduced to a couple of centuries. That sound appealing, Mr. Nardún?"

It certainly sounded a lot more appealing than excruciating pain, a fact which the fairy seemed to agree with, by his instant compliance.

"Let's get started then," Artemis said. He pulled up the picture of Haven Frond on his phone. "What do you know of this man?"

"That's Mr. Frond. He was my boss, before he left me in this stink hole to rot." Nardún spat on the ground.

"You say he was your boss. What exactly did he ask you to do? Did he tell you to raid the LEP?"

The elf was suspicious again. "Hold up here, mud man. How do I know that when I get out of here, Mr. Frond isn't going to come after me for helping you?"

"If you tell me what I want to know, Mr. Frond won't be a problem for you now, or in five hundred years," Artemis answered smoothly.

Nardún considered this and nodded. "A'right, yeah, Mr. Frond ordered me to put a group together and get into the LEP. We were supposed to be looking for this kid."

"A kid? Was it a boy?"

"Yeah. Little baby."

"Why were you searching for a child?"

Nardún laughed. "Hell, you don't know anything, do you, mud man? That kid's the last of the Erinsblood line."

"The last? Couldn't there be another?"

"Oh, sure. But it's not likely; the kid met the exact specifications in the Prophecy. You _do_ know about the prophecy, don't you?" He eyed Artemis suspiciously.

"Naturally. What 'specifications' did this child meet?"

"Well for one, he was born in Ireland," the elf explained. "There was a line about that, y'know- _of Erin's Line, and Erin's Land._ His mother was on vacation when she had 'im, see. What's more is Mr. Frond's first name was Haven, and the kid's name was supposed to be Erin. Kind of symbolic, don't you think?"

"Did this Mr. Frond ever talk about where he believed this child to be?"

"Naw; he just told me to search the Plaza. I don't know anything that's happened since we were caught."

Artemis nodded and turned away towards the door. "Thank you, Nardún. You have been very helpful."

"Yeah," the elf said, rolling his eyes. "By the way, I just gotta know…"

Artemis glanced over his shoulder. "Know what?"

"What are you gonna do if the kid can't help you?"

Artemis blinked, surprised. "Help me how?"

"You know, save your race? I mean, if you don't stop the war, you're sort of screwed."

"War?" Artemis's calm composure slipped half a centimeter.

The elf stared at him quizicallly, and then said, "You don't know, do you?"

"Know? Know what?"

"Well it's all right there in the prophecy, ain't it? '_Where war once raged on ancient ground, another war its field there found.' _If Haven ever finds Erin, you can bet there's gonna be a war. That's the whole point."

"What's the whole point?"

"To get revenge," Nardún said, as if this were the simplest thing in the world. "That's why you're after the Erinsblood, right? To stop Mr. Frond from destroying the mud people."

Artemis said nothing for a long moment, and then said, "You are very clever, Mr. Nardún. I shall talk to headquarters about your early release."

The elf grunted, and Artemis left.

As the trio hurried down the halls, Holly looked over at Artemis. There was a disgusted expression on his face.

"Artemis, don't worry," she said, breaking the silence. "We've gone undetected for centuries; there's no way the mud men will find us anytime soon."

"I'm not worried about detection, Holly." And he wasn't; she could hear the truth in his voice. "However, that was… rather unpleasant."

Holly didn't say anything. Artemis straightened his tie and cleared his throat. "One thing it did tell me, however, is that unfortunately, I'm going to have to cut Butler's vacation short."

"The things you put the poor man through," Holly said with a sigh.

"Yes; I don't pay him nearly enough."

**AF**

"Isn't this the life, big brother?" Juliet said, spreading her arms wide to the sky. "Sand, sun, and good old-fashioned _peace._"

Butler grunted in agreement. "I remember peace. It was nice."

"Well then get ready to meet an old friend. I'll tell you what, first thing we do after dropping your bags off at the room is go down to the beach, get you a margarita, and see how many kids get scared of a sleeping giant." She elbowed him the ribs. "That sound like fun, Dom?"

"Yes. And don't say my name."

"These are going to be the most relaxing two weeks of your life, big brother," she replied, practically skipping. "No disasters, no last-minute plans, and _no_ fairies."

Butler's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, frowned at the contact, and then answered. "Artemis? What's wrong? Are the twins alright?"

"The twins are fine," the Irish accent answered. "But there has been a bit of a… complication underground."

"One moment." Butler pulled the phone from his ear and glared at Juliet. "You jinxed it."

There was a humorless chuckle from the phone's speaker. "Never a moment's rest, old friend. I loathe to say it, but I'm afraid I'll have to cut your vacation short."

Butler sighed, which wasn't like him, but he thought he deserved it. "Should I bring Juliet along with?"

"That would be most prudent, yes. I'll fill you in when you get here."

Butler nodded and hung up. He looked over at Juliet, whose face had fallen. "We're not getting margaritas, are we?"

Butler made a U-turn back towards the rental car. "I sincerely doubt it."

**AF**

"Artemis," Butler said, greeting the Irish heir as he walked into the near-empty Police Plaza. "Does this 'situation' you mentioned have anything to do with me stopping a robbery two minutes ago?"

"Indeed it does," Artemis answered. Foaly trotted out of the tech office behind him.

"Good, you're here," the centaur said, looking exhausted. "Artemis, I've got the computers primed."

"I'll do what I can." Artemis motioned for Butler to follow him as he walked into the tech room.

"Something wrong with the computers?" Butler asked, looking around at the many black screens.

"Yes. It's a rather long story, but I'll make it as short as possible."

"A long story? I left yesterday."

"This story reaches back several years, old friend. Two decades, to be precise." He opened up a screen on his phone. "There is what you may call an extremist conspiracy group among the people. Small, but clearly effective. They raided the LEP this morning, copied a few files, and crashed all their computer and weaponry systems within a few kilometers' range."

"What did they want?"

Artemis handed him the phone. "This is a very old prophecy this group seems to have put quite a bit of stalk into."

Butler grunted. "I don't believe in prophecies."

"Neither do I, but we aren't exactly in our element here, Butler. Magic is complicated on its own, but when you mix it with the space-time continuum, the results are unpredictable. For instance, Opal's self-inflicted demise should have created a paradox, but it didn't. On the other hand, traveling back through time aged me several years. Prophecies fall into the same sort of category. However, whether it's true or not is irrelevant." He started to type a series of codes into the computer. "Back to the situation at hand, these people take this prophecy rather seriously. There are two lines of descendants from the two brothers of the prophecy, Erin and Haven Frond. Currently Haven's heir, who interestingly enough bears the same name, is hunting down the other descendent, coincidentally named Erin. Or it would be, if I believed in coincidences."

"Interesting," Butler said, frowning

"Quite. These people mean business; they don't want anyone interfering with their little plan, which of course includes world domination. Don't ask me how they intend to accomplish that; they're delusional. Apparently they've been searching for Erin ever since he went missing in France as an infant about two decades ago. Foaly's best guess, factoring in magic and the unpredictable, is a French albino male of about twenty years old in appearance."

"Does we know where he is?"

"Unfortunately not. That's what makes this so difficult, for both Mr. Frond and us. The most pressing problem, of course, is that this man has no knowledge of the People, his own identity, nor of the danger he is in. Most importantly, even if we do managed to find him and alert him to the peril, the Erinsbloods are unable to collect magic except during a full moon, which is less than a week from now. After that, it'll be too late." Artemis frowned. "These people are good…" He opened up a few files and ran a program. A warning siren sounded and an **error** message appeared. The teenager cursed in Gaelic, a bad habit he'd gotten into which Angeline was not fond of. He began to type furiously. More error signs appeared, but he managed to head most of them off.

As he hit the enter key, Artemis held his breath. A loading sign appeared. Ten percent… thirty…

As it reached ninety percent, the loading stopped. Artemis's lips were a tight line. _Come on…_

**"One hundred percent,"** a robotic voice said. **"Load complete. LEP weaponry series **_**1,000 **_**activated."**

"That's your basic weapon system, Foaly," Artemis said, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "Best I can do, though. The rest is too heavily encrypted… you'd need the original coding to get through the rest."

"The one-thousand series," Foaly said, sighing. "Those are practically ancient. But they'll work on short-notice. I owe you one, Artemis."

"Everyone owes me in one way or another." He stood up. "Now, we have work to do."

"Work?" Butler said, frowning. "I thought you said we had no idea where the man was?"

_"We _don't, and neither does Mr. Haven Frond. However, people don't just vanish off the face of the Earth, Butler. There is someone, somewhere, who _does_ know what happened to Erin Frond. We are going to find that person."

"How?"

"By going to where he was last seen."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_**Ireland, 20 years ago**_

_ Sarah Frond hurried alongside the river, hoping, praying that she wasn't too late. The full moon shone overhead, turning the river into a silvery stream._

_ She finally stopped beside a tree, bending to catch her breath. She pulled the bundle she'd been holding out from under her long jacket. The baby looked up, blue eyes sleepy, as she stroked his snow-white hair._

_ The infant whimpered at the sudden cold, and she whispered a low, "shh…" As she looked in his beautiful eyes, the full impact of what she was about to do finally hit her._

_ Tears pricked at Sarah Dew's eyes as she knelt down and held her son close. Sarah, heart aching, began to sing the old Irish lullaby she'd sang to him every night since his birth._

_ "I see the moon, and the moon sees me," she murmured, "shining through the leaves of the old oak tree. Oh, let the light that shines on me, shine on the one that I love."_

_ As she sang, she began to weave a simple spell around the child, to protect him from weather and cold. "Over the mountain, over the sea, back where my heart is longing to be. Oh let the light that shines on me, shine on the one that I love."_

_ The baby began to quiet, fall into an enchanted sleep. She took the acorn out of her pocket as she spoke and began to dig a small hole. Gently, she pulled the child's arm out of the blankets and held the acorn to his hand. His tiny fingers closed around the seed._

_ "I heart the lark, and the lark hears me, singing from the leaves of the old oak tree. Oh, let the lark that sings to me, sing to the one that I love." She guided her child's hand towards the hole._

_ "Over the mountains, over the sea, back where my heart is longing to be. Oh, let the light that shines on me-" Her voice broke, halted. The baby let go of the acorn sleepily, and it fell into the hole. As the blue and gold sparks began to float up from the acorn, she pulled him close to her, tears slipping down her cheeks. _

_ She cried silently, face twisted into a mask of grief as she held Erin as tight as she could. "Shine on the one that I love," she whispered. She kissed the top of his pale, downy head one last time and laid him down on the ground._

_ Another fairy would be along soon to perform the ritual. Erin would be brought to the LEP. She had days, maybe a few weeks, if she were lucky, before _they_ came for her. They would hunt her down like prey._

_ But they would not get her child._

_ Sarah stood up and looked at her sleeping child. She memorized his face, every bit of it. Then, with greater willpower than she thought she possessed, she turned and began to walk away._

_ She did not look back._

**Paris, France, Present Day**

Marie Lefebvre had just left the NICU for lunch when she saw him.

A young man, certainly no more than fifteen, was walking down the hallway. He was dressed in a suit, which was unusual enough, but the oddest thing about him was that he did not seem to be worried that he wasn't supposed to be there.

"_Bonjour, _Miss Lefebvre," the teenager said in perfect French. "My name is Martin. I have a few questions for you."

"Young man, you are not supposed to be here," the middle-aged woman said, frowning deeply. "Are you a patient?"

"No, Miss Lefebvre, I am not. I apologize; I didn't realize I wasn't supposed to be in this area. Was there a sign?" Of course there had been, and Artemis had seen it, too, but Marie didn't need to know that.

"Yes, there was. What sort of questions do you have for me?"

"Well you see, Miss, I'm doing a school project on a historical building," the teenager said earnestly. "Only I've been having some real trouble with the building I chose, seeing as it's no longer being used for its original purpose. Did you used to work at Loving Hearts Adoption Agency?"

"Yes I did. How did you know that?"

"Well, I- oh, I'm sorry," he said, as if just realizing she was on her way to someplace else. "If this isn't a good time…?"

"No, no. I'm just heading for my lunch break. I guess I have time for a few questions."

"Thank you very much; this will be so helpful." He pulled out a cheap notebook. "When was the orphanage founded?"

"Hmm… I think it was in 1943, right after WWII. Long before my time…"

"When did you start working there?"

"May of 1992."

Artemis ran the dates through in his mind. That was about a year before Erin arrived. Good. "How long did you work there?"

"Five years or so, just up until it closed."

"Did you work with the children there?"

"Yes; I was one of the nurses in charge of sickly infants."

"Do you remember any of the children having particularly difficult ailments? Muscular dystrophy, perhaps, or albinism?"

"Yes, I do." Artemis's spirits rose, until she continued. "There was a little baby girl whose legs just wouldn't work right, poor thing. I think it was a birth defect."

"No albinos?"

"Not that I can recall." She frowned slightly. "Is that important?"

"Not at all; I was just curious. Can you tell me what business is in its place now?"

"Yes; it's been turned into an apartment building. The agency closed due to lack of funding, but the woman who ran it, Mrs. Claire Rousseau, gave me quite a nice referral. She was such a sweet old thing. That was how I got my job here."

The teenager nodded, closing the notebook. "Thank you, Miss Lefebvre; you've been very helpful."

"My pleasure. Have a nice day."

"You as well." The boy turned and left. It was only after Marie went off towards the cafeteria that she realized the boy had been looking at her the whole time. In fact, she couldn't remember him ever writing down a note.

"Get any information?" Juliet said, as Artemis quickly exited the hospital.

"Some. She didn't remember ever seeing an albino baby, but not everyone has a good memory. She did give me a name, though; Mrs. Claire Rousseau. She said she ran the agency."

"Age?" Holly said, already beginning to look it up.

"Unsure. She mentioned she was elderly at the time that the agency closed; no doubt she's in a home by now."

"Let's see…" Holly nodded as the search came up. "Yep. Claire Rousseau, _Vieux Chêne Maison de Soins Infirmiers."_

"_Old Oak Nursing Home._ That's ironic," Mulch piped in.

"Tell me the address as we drive," Artemis said, opening up the car door.

"You don't have a French permit," Butler said, taking the door. "And last week you almost hit a tree."

"That's an exaggeration. It was a bush, and I was nowhere near it."

"It was a large bush and you're lucky I grabbed the wheel."

**Vieux Chêne Maison de Soins Infirmiers.**

"Mrs. Rousseau, it's an honor to finally meet you."

The elderly French woman smiled, a little confused. "Finally?"

"Indeed," Artemis said, sitting down in the armchair across from hers as someone yelled out, _"B,4!"_

Claire marked her card. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I know much about you- or at least, your work with the orphans of Paris. I'm doing a school project, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?"

It was certainly interesting to watch Artemis interact with the old woman, Holly decided. One thing she'd learned about the Irish genius was that he had the ability to be extremely polite when he wanted to, and that when he wasn't acting arrogant, he could actually be quite endearing, especially to older people.

As a matter of fact, Artemis did have a respect for the elderly that most people his age did not. They were easy to deal with and generally did not have the condescension other adults did around children, especially teenagers. _If every businessman and woman in the world were older than seventy-five,_ he thought, _my life would probably include a great deal less posturing and a great deal more productivity._

"Certainly," Claire said, smiling indulgently. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, your work with ill children particularly interested me. Perhaps you could describe some of the cases you saw?"

"Certainly, certainly… well, there were a few children who couldn't move their legs, poor dears. We didn't notice when they were infants, but as they grew…"

And so the storytelling began. Artemis did not appear annoyed; instead, he waited patiently. He would get the information he needed soon enough.

"…And then there were the albino babies-"

"Albino?" he said, interested.

"Yes, two of them."

"What years?"

"Oh, one in the mid-fifties… the other in the seventies, if I remember right…"

"None later? Say, around 1993?"

"You know, there may have been. That was the year we were over-capacitated and sent some of the children to our sister organization in England, so I very busy." She thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, I do recall there being one or two in the group."

Artemis's heart leapt. Finally, they were getting somewhere! "Is the agency still open?"

"I believe so." She frowned. "You know, it's funny that you should be so concerned about albino children."

"Why?"

"Another man, older than you, came in here late yesterday evening and started asking many of the same questions. Not nearly as polite as you, though."

"Did he have dark hair and blue eyes, by any chance?"

"You know, come to think of it, he did. Why? Do you know him?"

Artemis smiled his vampire smile. "Why, of course, madam. You see, we're doing the same project."

**Over the English Channel, Sunset**

Holly glanced back and saw the telltale screen light. She sighed and put the pod on auto-pilot. "Arty. Everyone else is asleep."

The teenager shrugged. "It's less than an hour's journey, Holly; I fail to see the point of resting only to be woken up a few minutes later."

Holly didn't buy it. She sat down in front of him. "Something's worrying you, isn't it, mud boy?"

Artemis turned his phone off and sighed. "This is going to be a very difficult task, Holly. Assuming we find this man, how are we supposed to convince him that you and all the rest are real? He'll either think we're mad, or he is."

"You didn't seem to have much trouble."

"I'm not a normal person, Holly; you know that as well as I do. Moreover, I first became aware of your existence at twelve- when I was still young enough to believe in fairies, yet smart enough to do something about it. This man will likely be neither. It becomes increasingly difficult to believe, the older one is upon realizing- you remember how reluctant I was to trust your word after I was mind-wiped, and that was hardly a year after I… _contacted_ you for the first time."

Holly had to admit that he had a point. "So what should we do?"

Artemis shrugged again. "My plans only go so far, Holly. Convincing a grown man of the impossible is not exactly my forte."

"Last minute plans are more your style."

He gestured towards his second blue eye. "Indeed."

Holly said nothing for a long moment, watching the sun go down over the crest of the world. Finally, she said, "What is death like, Artemis?"

He glanced over at her. "You know I don't remember it any better than you do."

Her hand went unconsciously to the place where the sword had never stabbed her. "Yes," she admitted. "I remember dying, but not death."

"I spoke to Butler about it once. He said much the same."

"What if there is nothing on the other side?" Holly wondered aloud, and he could hear the thinly veiled worry at the thought.

"There is," he said, without missing a beat. "Logically there must be, Holly. After all, if you call a spirit back to the body from the Beyond, there must be a Beyond to call it back from."

She smiled a little. "Was that a circular argument?"

"No, it was a highly logical one." The sun vanished behind the earth's curve, and the tiny pod was flooded with darkness. "I wouldn't worry about death, Holly," he said, and his voice, which was surprisingly soothing, didn't match the eerie appearance of his features in the sudden shadow. "We both know it's the living who cause so much trouble."

"Hmm. Can't argue with that." She ruffled his hair (to which he scowled) and stood back up. "We'll be landing in about twenty minutes, and then we'll find somewhere to stay for the night."

Artemis nodded and reopened his phone as Holly took the controls. He glanced out the window. Beneath him, land met water in the darkening evening.

He ran a quick search of cheap hotels on his phone, and then located one near to the _Loving Hearts Agency._ Tonight, he would rest.

And tomorrow, he'd find the elf who became a man.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl or Tarzan. I make no money off of this. No copyright infringement intended.

**London, England; 12:00 noon**

It was a bright and sunny day in England, which Artemis usually wouldn't have minded, except that it was also uncharacteristically warm, and he was in a suit.

"Why do I always do these things in a suit?" he wondered out loud. "It's never practical to be running from trolls or scaling power-lines in a suit, and yet I never seem to remember to wear something more sensible."

"That's why I'm in uniform, mud boy," Holly replied in a rather self-satisfied weather. "Good for most types of weather, and it's black. Everyone looks good in black."

"I don't understand why you aren't at least as warm as I am."

"Fairy-manufactured material. Reflects the sunlight despite the color."

"Remind me to hire a fairy tailor."

Artemis scanned the streets. A few people stared at him- or rather, at Butler- but most just look the other way, trying not to make eye contact with the man mountain.

"Can we get a move on?" Mulch snapped, from where he was sulking in the shadows. "The sunlight's bad enough, but listening to you two makes it three times worse."

Artemis raised an eyebrow, said simply, "As you wish," and then crossed the street in the brightest area possible.

Holly grinned and followed as Mulch muttered curses behind her.

As the three of them (Mulch and Holly had remained outside) entered the brick building, Artemis couldn't help but glance around. It was a modest place, with old, floral wallpaper and clean, scuffed hardwood floors. Along the walls there were multiple pictures, from black-and-white to poor coloring to printed, they depicted the years that had gone by, with the different generations of children, most by now grown an gone. There was a small office desk and a computer at the far end, which had an open window beside it, to let in the late spring air.

Artemis approached the front desk, where an older woman with reading glasses was reading a book. "Excuse me," he said politely.

The woman looked up. "Well hello, dear. How may I help you?"

"My name is Connor. I'm doing a research project for school," the teenager explained. "I have a few questions about the agency."

The woman frowned. "For school?" He nodded. "You don't seem like you're from around here."

Artemis could've kicked himself. He spoke any number of languages fluently, with no difference from the locals, and yet the moment he was back to his native English, he entirely forgot to mask his Irish accent. _Some genius I am._

"I lived in Ireland until just this year, ma'am," he lied smoothly. "I just moved here with my mum and dad." He motioned towards Butler and Juliet, the later of whom waved.

"Mum and dad," she said doubtfully.

"Yes, of course." The woman raised an eyebrow at the age difference, but was too polite to say anything. "Now, about the project; I was just wondering if I could look over a few of the files? I'm sure it would only take a minute."

"I'm sorry, young man, but those files are confidential."

Artemis spotted Holly just outside the open window. "Oh, I see," he said, hoping Holly knew what to do. "In that case, perhaps you could tell me about a few of these pictures?"

"Now that I can certainly do," the lady said, standing up and leaving the desk. As she did so, Holly disappeared outside the window, and then there was a light _tunk _of boots hitting hardwood_,_ so soft Artemis would have missed it if he hadn't been listening. "What would you like to know?"

Artemis scanned the pictures quickly. His eyes landed on one, taken with late-nineties coloring. Front and center, there was a young boy, maybe eight years of age, and his hair was stark white.

"This one," he said evenly, though his heart was racing. "Perhaps you could tell me about this group here?"

"Now, this was a particularly interesting group," the lady said, not even noticing as behind her, her computer began to wake up. _She must be half deaf,_ Artemis realized. "You see, most of these children were transfers from France, back in the early nineties."

"Really? How interesting. Did you know these children personally?"

"Oh, yes. I know every child that comes through my agency. That one in the corner, with the hat, his name was Dawson. And this one here, right in the middle with the glasses, her name was Jamie, but we all called her Jane, because she liked to pretend she was Jane from that old Tarzan movie. That came out about, oh, maybe two months before this picture was taken…?"

"What about this one?" Artemis said, pointing to the boy.

"Oh, that was Aaron. Sweet thing, sort of shy."

_Aaron. _That couldn't be a coincidence. "He has very light hair."

"He was an albino."

"Did he ever get adopted?"

"Oh yes, I remember the day. The parents were so kind, Mr. and Mrs. Jonson. I remember them specifically because they had just the nicest manners."

"Aaron Johnson," Artemis said, just to make sure Holly had caught the name. "Nice name. Now, what can you tell me about this picture here…?" He moved onto the next group as Holly quickly began to search the computer. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as the secretary began describing each of the children. The elf had taken her shield off in order to run the computer, and this was the trickiest part.

"But I suppose this is boring you, isn't it?" the woman said, turning back towards him.

Artemis panicked for a split second, and then did the only thing he could think of on such short notice: he tripped.

It was a rather spectacular trip, too. He tumbled forward like a rag doll and collapsed on the ground with a loud THUNK!

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, forgetting all about whatever she was going to do next. "Are you alright?!"

Artemis moaned, and he wasn't exactly faking. He hadn't taken his absolute lack of hand-eye coordination into account when he pretended to fall, and had accidentally hit his head rather hard against the floor.

"Oh dear," the woman said, kneeling down beside him. "Can you see me? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two," he said with a wince, rolling over and sitting up.

"Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous?"

"No; I'm alright. I don't think I have a concussion."

"Well, if you're sure," she said doubtfully, standing up and offering him a hand. Artemis took it, watching as Holly shut the computer down and turned her shield back on.

"Well, ma'am, I think I have enough information now," he said, straightening out his suit. "Thank you so much for your time."

"Oh, no trouble at all, dear," she said, turning back to her now-empty desk. The window curtains moved slightly, easily mistaken for a passing breeze, and then the invisible Holly was back out the window.

As Artemis left the building, he glanced around, and then asked her, "Did you get everything?"

"The whole file, mud boy. Thanks for the save."

"I'm going to have a goose egg on my forehead for weeks," he groused.

"Poor you," Butler said, none-too-happy about the little 'parent' deception.

"All we need now is the information," Artemis said, inserting the mini fairy thumb-drive into his phone. He opened the second file (the first being the LEP file) and began to scan through it. "It all matches up. Twenty years old, albino, adopted by a family right here in London. I think we've got our man."

"Elf," Mulch corrected.

"Elf."

**London, late afternoon**

_Ding-dong._

No answer. Artemis frowned and rang the bell again. _Ding-dong._

There was the sound of noises behind the door, and then it opened. A woman with red-rimmed eyes looked back. "Hello?"

Blinking a little at her appearance, Artemis swiftly recovered. "Hello, ma'am," he said politely, this time making sure to sound English, not Irish. "My name is Becket, and my friends and I would like to know if your son is home?"

The woman slammed the door in his face.

Artemis blinked again and looked back at the others. "Well that's unusual."

"She did seem rather upset about something," Juliet agreed. "Maybe Haven got here first and set her off?"

"Maybe." Still frowning, he rang the doorbell again.

This time, the response was immediate. The woman yanked open the door again. "You!" she snapped at him, looking tense but not angry. "What do you want with me?"

"Ma'am, we really only want to talk," Artemis said gently. "Has… someone upset you?"

"I don't have time for this." She went to slam the door again, but Artemis stopped her.

"Mrs. Jonson, all I ask is five minutes of your time. If someone told you we would be any sort of trouble to you at all, they were wrong. I promise, we'll be gone as soon as you want us to leave."

She hesitated, and then nodded warily. "Alright. But… just you. And the woman." She nodded towards Holly.

"Thank you." Artemis followed her into her house.

The kitchen was a modest, cheery sort of room, with yellow wallpaper and a number of plants growing on the windowsill. Mrs. Jonson hurried over to the stove. "I'm sorry, it's just been such an awful few days- would you like some tea?"

"Only if you have some made. We don't want to cause you any trouble," Artemis answered.

Mrs. Jonson nodded and put the teakettle down, hands shaking. She hurried over to the table and sat down across from them. "Quickly, if you please, I- I have- things to do." Her mouth was tight, but the words sounded rushed and disjointed.

"Of course," Artemis said, voice soothing. "We won't be long."

"Well, get on with it then. I'm busy."

Artemis nodded. "I was just wondering if I could perhaps ask you a few questions about your son, Aaron."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Holly said, confused.

"I-" She glanced away, and said with a cracking voice, "Dear me, I forgot to start the tea."

Artemis looked over at Holly, surprised and not a little disturbed, as Mrs. Jonson stood up to prepare the kettle she'd put down not twenty seconds ago. _What in the world…?_

_Something's not right,_ Holly answered with her eyes. She motioned her hand as a suggestion for him to keep talking.

"Er- alright, thank you," Artemis said uncertainly.

She let out a breathy, nervous laugh that didn't sound entirely sane. "It's no trouble at all, dears."

"So, about Aaron," Artemis began, but she cut him off.

"Didn't I just tell you that there's no need to talk about Aaron?" she snapped.

Perplexed, Artemis said, "Well, then- perhaps we could talk to him ourselves?"

Over at the stove, Mrs. Jonson put the teakettle down on the burner. "No," she said, her voice strangely calm. "No, I'm afraid that's quite impossible."

"Why?"

She didn't turn around. She didn't even move. But still, Artemis heard her say:

"Because Aaron is dead."


End file.
